


Before He Cheats

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: Imagine Tony & Bucky [69]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky Makes A Big Mistake, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Misunderstandings, Past James "Bucky" Barnes/Brock Rumlow - Freeform, Revenge, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5606356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Imagine a non-powers AU where Bucky, finally fed-up with his cheating, slimy (now ex)boyfriend's behavior decides to take it out on said ex's car, a la Carrie Underwood in 'Before He Cheats'. The bad news is the car turns out not to be his ex's. The good news is the rich guy whose car he just trashed (of course, Tony) not only finds the whole situation amusing, but is also very hot - and is just Bucky's type.</span>
</p>
<p>As soon as he laid eyes on the shiny, expensive Lamborghini, Bucky broke out in a grin, and picked up his pace, all but running up to the car in order to smash one of the headlights with the baseball bat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before He Cheats

Bucky had gotten into trouble once or twice when he was younger, but he was an angel compared to some of the kids in the neighborhood where he and Steve grew up. Hell, most of the trouble he’d found himself in was Steve’s fault, anyway. The punk.

Sure, he’d had all sorts of daydreams about getting back at the people who’d wronged him, or messed with Steve, but Bucky wasn’t the kind of guy to act out on these thoughts. He was a firm believer in the old adage that living well was the best revenge.

None of which explained why he was marching into a parking garage with a baseball bat, and a look in his eyes that should have been able to melt steel. He supposed _everyone_ had a breaking point, and even if that wasn’t the case, Brock had certainly found his.

As soon as he laid eyes on the shiny, expensive Lamborghini, Bucky broke out in a grin, and picked up his pace, all but running up to the car in order to smash one of the headlights with the baseball bat.

“That’s for all the backhanded, bullshit compliments,” he growled, enjoying the sound of breaking glass, “and that’s for kickin’ the cat, ‘cuz I _know_ you did,” he continued, smashing the other headlight.

“Takin’ me for granted all the time.” He brought the bat down across the hood with enough force to almost lose his grip on it, then trotted around to crack one of the sideview mirrors. “Givin’ me crap for wanting to spend time with Steve.”

Bucky dropped the bat for a moment, and pulled out his keys, dragging them up and down the side of the car, feeling all of the anger and misery and the sense of unfairness just pouring out in beautiful, awful violence. He scrawled a big, loopy _fuck you Brock_ on the hood.

“For picking up guys at the bar every time I turned my back,” he grunted, pocketing his keys and pulling a switchblade out of his back pocket. “And bangin’ them in _my_ bed!”

One by one, Bucky flattened the tires on the car, feeling more and more at peace. One or two people had gathered, were of course recording with their cell phones, which meant he should probably have worn a disguise or something. Brock knowing who’d trashed his brand new car was one thing, getting arrested after the video went viral was something else entirely.

But once he’d started, it was hard to stop, and so Bucky kept going. The bat made a comeback, cracking against the windows, while he continued his tirade, thinking of how stupid he’d been to let Brock stay in his life for as long as he had.

“And _this_ is for playing into my hangups about losing my arm,” through the windshield, again and again, “so that I actually believed you were doing me a favor treatin’ me like shit!”

Breathing heavily and unsure of what was left to break, Bucky leaned on the bat and looked at his work, feeling at peace for the first time in a long time. One of the people with the cell phone gave a little cheer, while someone else cleared their throat loudly.

“Who’s Brock?”

Bucky spun on his heels, feeling like the air had been punched out of him, because hello short, dark, and gorgeous! The guy asking the question was leaning over to read the scrawl in the paint job on the hood, a nervous smile on his handsome face, both hands in his pockets. Artfully messy hair, tinted glasses, wearing a suit that easily cost more than Bucky’s ridiculously overpriced New York City rent, and the kind of eyes that a man could fall in love with.

“He’s my piece of shit ex,” Bucky explained, not sure what to do with the bat now that his smash-fest had ended.

The handsome stranger’s eyebrows went up a bit, but he nodded. “Right, that makes sense. I missed the beginning of the rant. I’d assumed, but you know what they say about assumptions.” He paused to flash a wicked smile, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile back. “Cheated?”

“Yup. More than once. Last time he had the nerve to ask if I wanted to join in when I came home early and caught him in the act.” Bucky surprised himself with a laugh, because suddenly it was just the tiniest bit funny. Likely the post-destruction high was to blame. “And then he gave me crap for not leaving to let them finish. It was my apartment!”

“Wow, yeah, I’d probably smash his car, too,” the stranger agreed, running a hand through his hair. “I hope you changed the locks?”

“Yeah, and had to change all my passwords, too. Pretty sure the creep installed spyware on my machine or something. Considering he spent all his time cheating on me, seems pretty ridiculous that he couldn’t stand the idea of me seeing anyone else, even my friends.”

Handsome took a few steps closer, a bit of concern evident on his face. “Do yourself a favor; swing by the police station and get a restraining order, just in case.”

Perfect. Not only was he aggressively attractive in an entirely unfair way, but it sounded like he was also a nice guy. It broke Bucky’s heart a little to think that he could have been out trying to find a guy like that, but instead had wasted his time on Brock.

“I’m sorta hoping the trashed car might be the end of it, but…” Now that he was thinking of it, Bucky was starting to worry about how Brock would react when seeing his new car. “Maybe I didn’t think this through all the way. I could always just move?”

“Guessing this is a first for you?” Bucky nodded. “Spectacular job, by the way. I mean—wow— _totalled_. And you’re rockin’ a prosthetic, right?” Bucky nodded again. “Well, excellent destructive force, my friend. That’s a $330,000 car, you know?”

Oddly enough, he _hadn’t_ known. Bucky was fully aware that the Lamborghini couldn’t be cheap, but that much? How the hell had Brock managed to get his hands on that kind of cash?

“Well, now it’s a $330,000 piece of trash.”

The stranger burst out laughing, and it was a really, really good laugh. Showed off the little lines around his eyes, and his whole body got into it. If he didn’t stop being so perfect, Bucky would be legally obligated to ask for his number.

“Right, so, this Brock guy has that kind of cash? Think he’ll just let it slide?” He was still tittering, but the question was serious enough to give Bucky pause.

“He always seemed broke, but I guess he got himself a sugar daddy,” Bucky grumbled.

He fished into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and brought up the photos that had set him off. There were a couple to flip through. A close up with Brock making out with his new boyfriend. The same guy sprawled across the hood of the Lamborghini, with Brock’s hand against his stomach, like he was about to slide it down the guy’s pants. One he’d obviously had someone else take for him of the two of them making out on the car. The photos were accompanied by a short message.

_Ditched the old, broken down model for this shiny new toy! You wish you could take this sweet thang for a ride. The car ain’t half bad either. ;p_

“He sent these to you?”

“Posted them online, too.”

The stranger tugged off his glasses, tucked them in a pocket, and frowned down at Bucky’s phone, scrolling through the photos again. “He works here?”

“Yup.”

“Pretty sweet revenge. Uh, you know, except for it not being his car. But otherwise? Spectacular!”

A smile accompanied the phone as it was handed back, so it took a moment for Handsome’s words to sink in. Bucky looked at the car, then looked back at the stranger. “Wait, what do you mean it isn’t his car?”

“They just posed with the car while it was parked here on Tuesday, but he doesn’t own it.”

Bucky felt the cold grip of dread. “No. No way! It’s gotta be his car.”

“It’s not. Trust me.”

“Well, how can you be sure?”

Handsome’s smile turned a little shy, which just made Bucky want to kiss his cheek. Brock always made fun of him for that sort of stuff, but he didn’t think it was corny in the least, and at the moment he definitely wanted hot guy’s cheek beneath his lips.

“Um, well, because it’s _my_ car.”

Bucky stopped thinking about kissing, and dropped the baseball bat, his heart feeling like it’d up and stopped in his chest. “Say that again?”

“The car. It’s mine.” He fished keys out of his pocket, hit the fob, and the car chirped happily as if nothing was amiss. “I’m kinda pissed the alarm didn’t go off when you took a bat to it. Or is that impressed? I dunno. One of those. Oh, uh oh, you look like you’re about to pass out!”

“It’s _your_ car,” Bucky choked out, forgetting how to breathe. “I just trashed your $330,000 car, and you’re…” His legs went out from under him, but before he fell ass first into a bunch of broken glass the car’s owner grabbed him, and kept him propped upright.

“Okay, calm down, deep breaths.”

“I’m barely scrapin’ by,” Bucky gasped, covering his face with a shaking hand. “How the hell am I gonna pay you back?”

“You’re not,” hot guy swore, rubbing circles against his back in a comforting fashion.

Bucky groaned, and blinked back his tears, muttering something about going to prison, and losing his Army benefits, and Steve starving to death—he wasn’t really sure what he said, just that a lot of the fear and misery came out in a sob.

“Hey, come on, I’m not calling the cops,” the guy swore, pulling Bucky into a hug. “No cops, no paying me back, no one is starving, or having to drop out of art school, or sell their organs for money. You did me a favor, really, I can use this as an excuse to get a Bugatti. And, ah, not park my cars in the garage anymore. Our security _blows_ , apparently.”

Sniffling like a little kid that’d skinned his knee, Bucky pulled back and wiped at his eyes. “You’re sure it’s okay?”

“What’s a Lamborghini between friends, right?” He smiled wide and bright, and so Bucky grabbed him by the shoulders, and planted a kiss on his cheek. When he pulled back again, the cheek he’d just kissed was pink, as was the other. The guy had an _adorable_ blush on him.

“I’m Bucky, by the way,” he said, extending his hand to shake.

“Tony,” and a strong, calloused hand clasped his own in return.

“How long were you watching me smash up your car?”

“Oh, almost the entire time,” Tony admitted, grinning wolfishly. “It was, uh, a thrilling triumph of man over machine. How ‘bout we continue this over some drinks?”

The stupid thing was, Tony looked like he expected Bucky to turn him down. “That sounds great, Tony.”

They finally stopped shaking hands, and Tony leaned down to grab the bat, tossing it through the smashed windshield and into the passenger seat. Immediately, the car alarm went off, blaring loud enough to wake the dead.

“Are you kidding me?” Tony flipped off the car, fiddled with his key fob until he managed to silence the racket, and then clapped Bucky on the shoulder. “Okay, let’s get that drink.”

And to Bucky’s surprise and delight, Tony reached out and took him by the hand to lead him from the garage, and away from the stragglers still taking photos of the smashed car. Bucky squeezed Tony’s hand, and couldn’t help the little thrill of hope fluttering in his chest.

Maybe it was stupid to hope, but Bucky was doing it anyway. After all, it would make one hell of a good getting together story.

**Author's Note:**

> I stand by my awful tag-pun: smashing a car for revenge is CARthartic.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [【铁冬】Before He Cheats](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7609003) by [dianamiao](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianamiao/pseuds/dianamiao)




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